Out in the ACRU headquarters, there's one figure who's just as out of place here as she was in the dull walls of the mental hospital. The college student strikes a colorful figure, peeking around a corner, out of the interview room of sorts she'd been corralled in, with her flare of red hair and purple plaid shirt— and just as wide-eyed as ever. The frightened manner in which Jude stares one way, then the other, along the short hallway is much the same as the wary stares that led her way in building of horrors she left. This is unfamiliar territory. Cops and statements and people with guns and badges and questions and abilities. A low level member of the ACRU staff walks by to kindly murmur her directions, complete with a point in the direction of the captains' shared office, and Jude nearly trips over herself trying to instinctively step back in the room.

"I mean— thank you," she corrects herself over the jumbled exclamation she gave prior, and nervously points up and down the man. "— officer. Cop. Person. Nice— badge and. Things you have. Very. Official. Oh, no, I'm fiine, I can escort myself. This way, was it— ?" Swallowing nervously, Jude ducks around the stranger and folds her arms awkwardly as she walks to the indicated door. Or was it the other way…

That indicated door - and yes it was the proper door - opens quickly and there may be a brief glimpse of Captain Shea, but more visible is the scientific CSI Harriet Parker. There are some soft spoken words and then the door shuts. The brunette stands there for a few moments, as if processing what she just heard and trying to work through everything before she twirls around - almost like a dance move. Her braids flip over her shoulders and she glances about the main room, wondering who is watching and what it may mean. Somewhere in this building is Dr. Lewis, but she doesn't know where, though she would certainly like to talk to him at some point. And somewhere else entirely is the woman she endured all this with.

Harry doesn't have very long to wait before she catches a glimpse of Jude's bright red hair and clothing. And seeing as the young woman is coming right this way, she stands where she is. She's not sure if she has it in her to be chipper. Instead, all she can do is give Jude a weak smile. "Hey," she greets.

Jude forgoes any form of greeting. She magnetizes toward the familiar face of Harry. Otherwise a stranger, but more familiar than anyone else in this place, familiarized by necessity in the midst of terror, burned into her mind: it's that intensity she comes at the investigator with, reaching out to try to grapple the older woman. "They took my camera!" she exclaims. Despite her general bearing that would suggest the opposite, Jude is a tall girl — but slouching, leaning, she looks up at Harry. She works here, she has all the answers! "Everyone's been very nice, for cops — sorry, you're kind of one of them, aren't you? But whatever, you're a nerd who works with the creepy dead bodies, right?" This is unimportant information; she blinks up at Harry back on track. "But they— took my camera, and I'm supposed to go in that office and I don't understand what for when all I want to do is go home— "

Harry allows Jude to grapple onto her, quite aware of the terror that she must feel. She was feeling something incredibly similar earlier. It's only the past couple conversations with her Captains that have left her feeling more drained than terrified. At least she's finally back on familiar territory, while Jude is forced to remain among strangers. She glances back at the recently shut door and instead of knocking, brings the woman to a nearby chair in order to help calm her down before she talks to them. This, at least, is relaxing. She's in charge and not being considered a victim.

"I know they took your camera. They need it for evidence. They'll give it back." Though, now she's not so sure what evidence they'll even need for this case. "You're headed toward the Captains - Shea and Ramsay. They're just going to talk to you. And, well, technically I deal with forensic evidence, but that can involve creepy dead bodies."

After Harry's words, a percentage of them can practically be seen leaving Jude's ears as 'blah blah blah'. Nevertheless, she seems to appreciate the woman's presence — there's an ever-present slant to her body, toward Harry, as she follows her to the chairs. She slowly leans toward the chair until she flops onto it, gripping the arms it between them both. "I talked to the nice one already," she points two fingers at her face and directs them back at Harry, "with the eyes." She settles and resettles in the seat, shifting her long legs around to one side then the other, as if she's forgotten how to sit properly. Or at all. "Without the video though, that's how they're going to give it back. I'm going to fail my summer project," she says sullenly; the realization is hollow, made distant by a shock that has nothing to do with her video camera being taken. She stares off into space.

Sometimes it's good to just keep talking at someone until they realize you're helping. Or, in Harry's case she normally just talks about people all the time and expect the understand her science terminology. "Captain Shea. He mentioned he talked to you. Captain Ramsay is stern, but he's still a good guy. It will be quick, I'm sure. And then you can go home." As for her summer project, she thinks. "Can you give an excuse? Or, perhaps film something else?" It's the least she can do to ask. "Also, I think you should have an escort home."

Just barely, Jude nods, blinking out of her daze. Her gaze remains slightly unfocused as she answers, a rambling string of words. "This is a really good excuse. Couldn't do my project on account of bloody terror. But that sounds a bit like 'dog ate my homework'. Do you think Captain Shea will give me a note… hold on, an escort?" Her eyebrows raise, an almost comical expression on her otherwise shock-blanched face. "Well I'm not calling my mother, or I will never hear the end of it," she says before, suddenly, she twists even more toward Harry. "Can I ask you something?"

"I think this may be a little different from dog ate my homework." Only slightly. There were no dogs involved with what happened to them. "They should give you a receipt for the tape so that you can pick it up later. That may work for the excuse. Otherwise, you can probably ask him. I think he may oblige, considering the circumstances. Also, I meant a police escort. Someone should drive you home." After all she's been through, it's probably safer. The sudden twist toward her is met with a blink. "Um, sure. Ask away."

Jude grabs hard onto the arm of the chair. "There's one thing…" Green eyes lock wide as can be on Harry's, searching, wondering, and afraid — not of Harry; no; she's the one with all the answers in this new territory of ACRU. "One thing I forgot to ask the Captain before." Just as soon as they lock on, they tear away, looking around the station, only to boomerang right back onto Harry. A certain, nervous intensity makes her distinctive voice slightly deeper and shakier. "Is he here." Not the Captain… "The Doctor. Did they bring him here?"

Seeing Jude grip onto the chair, then she's given the question. Oh dear. How to answer this one. Harry has been kneeling so that she's the same height as Jude. But, now she reaches back and grabs a chair to settle herself on. "That's complicated and it's probably best to let the Captains explain it properly. I'll only muck it up." And she'll get too angry about certain things, but that's something different. "He's here, yes. But, you're safe. He can't hurt us."

Jude's hair, all red waves made haywire by the night's running about, falls forward as she, herself, practically slides off the chair. The grip on the arm might be the only thing actually keeping her upright. She stares at Harry like the other woman is bonkers; the stare turns into incredulity; incredulity into fear. "How do you know that," she challenges — remarkably quietly. She's calm enough, at least, to avoid a scene. "How do you know that for sure? I did that stabby thing," spoken with a tone doubt and astonishment; she's not certain how she managed that, "and he went out, but what if he wakes up again? What if he doesn't work like other people? What if it's all tricks— he could be awake now and what if no one even knows. This could be a dream right now and that handsome cop over there could turn into a zombie clown."

Quickly, Harry adds her own grip to that of Jude, who seems to be slipping out of the chair from fear. "Jude. You're going to— " she sighs, glancing over at the Captain's door, she can't believe she's about to say this after what just happened to her. "You're— you'll have to trust me on this one. He can't get you now, okay?" She can't tell if she's just saying this to make Jude feel better or if she really thinks it's the truth. "You're safe. We're not in a dream any more." In fact, she pinches Jude as if to show her that this is not a dream state. That always works right? As if speaking outloud her thoughts she adds, "I wonder why people think pinching will make you wake up. That's odd, isn't it?" That segues into the matter of the zombie clown. She spares a quick glance to where 'the handsome cop' is and smiles. "That's Kev— Detective Parrish. He's not a zombie clown. Not even for Halloween."

"Ow," is all Jude has to say on the matter, hauling her pinched portion back and giving Harry a sour look. She eases into hugging herself instead, sitting up a bit more upright on the chair. Wide eyes switch to narrow as she peers down at Harry, clearly unconvinced by the pinching method. She doesn't know what to think anymore — that much is clear on the girl's face, too. "Good, because I hate clowns," she adds with a bitter pout for good measure before making the effort to stand up. By that office door.

"Sorry," Harry says sheepishly. She was just trying to help! The scientist stands, too, when she sees that Jude does. "Maybe he'll be nice enough to take you home." She did call him handsome, after all. Fumbling into her pockets, she comes out with a card that has her name and work number on it. "Look, if you want to talk about what happened some more or you need help, give me a call." It's the least she can do. "And if you still need an excuse for your professor, let me know and I'll draft one up for you." After what they went through together, it wouldn't be a bad idea to just know they could talk about with someone else who was there.

Jude takes the card and immediately starts to fiddle with it. Her head hanging, she bobs it a few times to go along with her answer: "Okay," she says, mumbled appreciatively, if clumsily, out as a quiet ah-kay. "People go crazy after seein' things like what we saw, don't they," she switches tracks all of a sudden with a slightly wary look up. She means well: "So, uhm. Best of luck with not going crazy. Miss— " She holds the card up and peers at it to refresh her memory, "Parker." A weak smile appears, not unlike Harry greeted Jude with. She waves a little around the card and directs herself toward that door. Hopefully Shea is just waiting for her; she wanders in without knocking to be swallowed up into the safe-and-sound quarters with the gentle unit captain.